Two of a Kind
by Chorro
Summary: Just what everyone needed: another Wolverine. She has the same claws, the same mutation; even the same attitude. When this mysterious girl appears at the mansion, its up to her and Logan to settle their differences to peice together their pasts.
1. Meet Abby

Okay, here we go. This is my first fic in a while. It's a Wolverine romace story. :3

Mmmkay. Enjoy.

--

Everything was coming crashing down on him.

His lack of knowledge about who he was, his unrequited love for the red headed psychic he'd fallen so in love with...it all seemed intensified by the deafening silence that filled his room.

Logan sat on the side of his bed, slouched over his knees with his head in his hands. He had returned a few days earlier from one of his infamous escapades to chase down his past, and, as usual, had found nothing. It was starting to wear down on him. He had no idea how old he was, where he'd been born...he didn't even understand why his bones were clad in the indestructible metal that had been his defense through the years. He knew nothing and it drove him crazy.

He glanced lazily at the alarm clock, only to remember he'd smashed through it with his claws that morning. Moaning as he leaned back to lie flat out on the bed, he shut his eyes. It had been a rough day.

Suddenly, a familiar scent met grabbed his attention, and he sprang to his feet as the door opened. It was Jean.

She parted her lips to speak, but Logan was quicker. "Listen, Jean, I'm sorry about this morning, I know how uncomfortable it made you, but I just couldn't help myself—"

"Save it, Logan," She snapped. Her harsh tone caught him off guard, and he froze, looking at her somberly. "There's something you need to see."

As she turned on her heel and disappeared, Logan shook off the feeling of rejection that had washed over him, and started after him. They strode down the hallway, neither one speaking. Just when Logan was about to ask what the hurry was, he heard the screaming.

He grimaced, holding back the urge to cover his sensitive ears. It sounded almost inhuman. "What is that?" He shouted to Jean over the noise.

She tossed him a look and just kept walking, seemingly unaffected by the earsplitting shrieks.

Finally, the doctor stopped in front of a doorway, and beckoned for Logan to enter. It took him a moment for the Wolverine to recognize where they were- it was Jean's office where all the medical equipment was...where they had first met. He gave her one last apologetic glance before stepping in.

He froze in the doorway, taking in the scene before him.

The professor sat at the end of a bed, a look of concern on his face. Storm and Cyclops were against the wall, wincing at the noise. Logan searched the room with his eyes for a quick moment before his eyes locked on to the source of the sound.

It was a girl.

It was clear the professor was trying to hold her down to the best of his ability, because she seemed to be fighting against invisible chains. Her face was flushed with the effort of her thrashing, and her cheeks were stained with tears. Her perfect, straight teeth were clenched in a snarl, her deep blue eyes harsh. She had a frizzy mess of blond hair that went to her shoulders and hung in her eyes. It was difficult to tell, but Logan guessed she was about eighteen, and he could tell she was thin and quite frankly beautiful. But none of these things were what caught his attention.

She had three claws extending from each of her petite fists; claws that were identical to Logan's.

Suddenly, she silenced, her harsh stare locking on Logan's, her nostrils flaring. He could see Cyclops and Storm sigh with relief, lowering their hands from their ears. The professor looked weary.

"This shit it in you too, isn't it?" She whispered, holding her claws up for him to see. "Isn't it!" she screamed, whipping her head around to glare at the professor. Her chest rose and fell noticeably as she gasped for air.

Shutting his eyes and lowering his head, he released his hold on her and she fell slowly to the bed. "Yes, Abby. His bones were made by the same man who made yours."

Unsure of what to make of that, the girl glanced angrily from her claws to Logan's. He watched her, shocked and weary. "This is so fucked up. Can I leave?"

Charles Xavier sighed. "You may go to your dorm, but you can't leave the mansion."

Rolling her eyes, the girl gracefully pushed herself off the bed and strode past Logan, locking eyes with him as she "accidentally" grazed his arm with her claws as she stepped past him.

He bit his lip, grimacing as the pain subsided and the cuts healed themselves. When the throbbing ceased, he looked up at the professor. "Who is this girl?"

"We don't know," answered Storm. "The only reason we know her name is because it's written on her dog tag. She has one just like yours." Subconsciously, Logan reached up to finger his tag, tracing over the engraved numbers with his thumb.

"Where'd she come from?"

"That's just it. We don't know that either. We found her at the door this morning, soaking wet and nearly unconscious. We think she must have swam here, or at least part of the way. She won't tell us. All she'll say is that she doesn't remember."

All three mutants looked at him then. Under the power of all six eyes, Logan averted his gaze. "Well?" Scott said finally.

"Well, what?" Logan quipped.

Storm tossed Scott a look, and he crossed his arms and looked away. She looked back to Logan, eyes careful. "We were wondering if...you might know her somehow."

He narrowed his eyes. "Of course I don't. Why would I? I don't even know who I am, what makes you think I'm keeping tabs on all the other clawed mutants in the world?" Storm put a hand up to object, but Logan interrupted her. "Forget it," He said frostily, pulling a cigar out of his coat pocket. "I don't need this. She's not my problem."

As he turned to leave, though, Jean was there, blocking his way. When he tried to walk past her, she grabbed his arm, stopping him. He glanced down at her, and was shocked to see her unleash the full intensity of her eyes on him. It left him open-mouthed and breathless.

"Go talk to her," she hissed, then added more gently, "Between the two of you, maybe you can piece some things together." And with that she released him and stepped to the side, inviting him to leave. He stood there, stunned before his thoughts returned to him and he stormed out.

When Logan had finally calmed down after walking down a few hallways in a cloud of anger and frustration, he sighed and leaned against a locker, realizing he didn't even know where this girl's room was. He stood there for a moment, listening to the usual clamor of the hallway, until one voice caught his attention.

"Hey, it's the new girl! I hear she's got claws just like Wolverine's. She's a complete copy of him, doesn't even have her own power."

"Shut up!" He recognized Abby's musical voice instantly.

"I bet she's not even a mutant...just a fan girl who had the claws put in!"

A snarl gathering in the back of his throat, Logan fought his way through the crowds of kids, anger building up within him. He came to a halt behind Abby, towering over her and the two boys taunting her.

Their laughter stopped abruptly.

"Wanna say that one more time," He growled, unsheathing his claws, "so I can hear you?"

They shook their heads. "No, Mr. Logan, sorry...won't happen again..." one stuttered before they both turned and booked down the hall.

Abby sighed visibly before turning to face him. "I could have handled it myself."

Logan smirked. "Not without your claws," he said, letting his own slide back into his arm.

"Whatever," she sneered, and started to walk away.

He grabbed her shoulder, gently turning her to face him. "Listen, I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you." She gave him a flat stare. He swallowed before continuing. "I figured we could put together what we know and maybe piece together what happened to us."

She gave him a look so hostile he immediately dropped his hand. "I already know what happened to me," she said in a dangerous whisper. "Someone ruined my life for a stupid experiment."

Unable to think of a response, he stood there silently as he watched her go, dazed. As the second bell rang and the last of the students in the hallway scurried off to class, Logan leaned against a locker, staring after Abby, lost in thought.

--

Well, that's the first chapter. I don't exactly know where I'm going with this...I'm just going to kind of let it write itself.  
Pleeeaaase review. I'd really appretiate feedback. If I don't hear from any readers, I probably won't write more.

But anyway, hope you enjoyed it. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.


	2. Nightmares

_He sat in silence in the tiny kitchen, staring blankly at the fridge as the sun was just beginning to rise. He was only up early because he couldn't sleep, and he'd needed a beer. The professor probably knew that he'd snuck a six pack into one of the upper cabinets, but he hadn't said anything. Like his smoking, it was tolerated, so long as he didn't start selling it to the kids. And he wouldn't; why waste his money? He bought his indulgences for himself. He had no plans on sharing._

_He'd been aware of the approaching footsteps for a while, his attuned ears able to easily pick them up in the silence, even though they were corridors away. What he hadn't caught, however, was any distinction as to who the footsteps belonged to. _Maybe it's that ice kid, Robby or whatever his name is,_ he thought dryly, smirking to himself. _He could cool this down for me. _He'd drink just about any alcohol, but he preferred his beer chilled._

_It was then that a tiny voice came to him, making his heart stop in his chest._

_"Logan?"_

_He sprang up from his seat, leaving his beer tottering lazily on the table. He was subconsciously preparing himself for disappointment, even though he knew who it was. He'd know that voice anywhere._

_She stepped into the kitchen slowly, her feet padding lightly against the tile floor. She was wearing one of her usual nightgowns; it was conservative but still flattering, off white and ending just above the knee. Logan swallowed, trying not to let his eyes linger on her slender legs, or flat stomach, or supple breasts..._

_"Jean," he breathed, not bothering to come up with anything witty. _

_"What are you doing up?" She asked with one of her tiny, playful smiles that he'd fallen in love with when they'd first met. _

_Logan chewed lightly on the inside of his lip for a moment, trying to regain his composure before speaking. "You know, I could ask you the same question."_

_"I heard you get up," she said flatly, her eyes almost inviting him to challenge that._

_"All the way down the hall?" He asked, raising one eyebrow and giving her a small, lopsided smile._

_She took a step closer, leaning against the table next to him. "I may or may not have already been awake."_

_Something suddenly occurred to Logan, and his smile faded. "Where's Scott?"_

_Her expression darkened as well, knowing the direction this conversation was now taking. " He's with the professor. He didn't tell me what was going on."_

_Despite the fact that he knew better, that information still sent a flutter of hope and excitement through him. He knew that Jean would never return his affections, but maybe with Scott gone she might change her mind..._

_"No, Logan," she whispered harshly._

_He looked into her eyes, guilt obvious in his expression. "Are you reading my-"_

_"I don't have to. Look, Logan, it's not happening."_

_He moved closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. He could feel her leaning away, but he held her tightly enough that she couldn't move. "If you just gave us a chance..."_

_"I don't have to. He's the one, I know it."_

_Logan looked down, feeling as though she'd just stabbed through his heart with a serrated blade. That was one injury his mutation couldn't instantly heal. He dropped his arm, pained._

_"Logan, I'm sorry, it's just..." her voice trailed off. _

_"No. You're not," he responded icily, looking back into her eyes. His gaze was hardened now by the familiar feeling of rejection that was coursing through his veins._

_She took a small step back, shocked to see that he was genuinely hurt. Surely this couldn't be the invincible Wolverine that felt no pain and had no regrets. Suddenly he seemed almost human to her, fragile and helpless...so unlike himself. _Human or mutant, everyone hurts the same way, _she thought to herself in the back of her mind. Refocusing on the situation, she tried to speak, but felt herself at a loss for words._

_Logan clenched his jaw and looked away, hardly letting himself think before springing into motion. In one of his unique bursts of speed, he was next to her, his arms around her waist, his lips on hers. Unable to comprehend what was happening at such an early hour of the morning, Jean gave in for a few seconds, before her thoughts returned to her and she began fighting against him. He pulled back, looking into her eyes for a reaction._

_Her face was blank. Carefully, but not without force, she pulled his arms from her waist. They dropped lamely at his sides. _

_"Jean, I—" he began._

_"Don't," she said hotly, stepping back. "You can't keep this up, Logan." And with that she whipped around and disappeared into the dark hallway._

_--_

"No!"

Logan bolted upright in bed, his eyes wide, sweat rolling down his forehead. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to slow his breathing.

His dream had been a perfect reenactment of the previous morning's events. It was just as difficult to live through the second time, even though he had been unconscious.

He turned so that his legs were dangling off the bed, about to rest his head in his hands when he realized his claws were unsheathed. Glaring at them, he snarled and ripped through his pillow, sending feathers flying into the air. He took a moment to breathe deeply and calm down before sheathing his claws and standing. He pulled on an old t-shirt and a pair of ragged jeans and walked out of his room. He had no clue what time it was, and he didn't even realize where he was walking to until he got there: the kitchen. He shut his eyes, the pain returning to him, before grabbing a beer out of the cabinet. He only had two left, he'd have to remember to get more.

Sitting down at the table, he sighed, and twisted the cap off the bottle.

He could hear a familiar sound, but he was too tired to really register it...until the bell rang. What he was hearing was the sound of students filling the hallways, going to their lockers, getting ready for class. This was the latest he'd slept in since...well, he couldn't remember. _No surprise there. If it weren't for this stupid tag on my neck, I'd forget my own name half the time._

He rose stiffly, tossing the now empty bottle into the trash (recycling was the least of his worries) before stepping into the busy hallway.

He wove between the chattering kids, trying to make his way back to his room.

"Logan!"

Recognizing the voice, he grinned, turning around and opening his arms for a hug.

Rogue sprang into his grasp, grinning from ear to ear. As he released her, she looked up at him, excitement gleaming in her eyes. "When'd you get back?"

He sighed, deciding to answer honestly. "A few days ago."

"Why didn't you come see me?" she asked, smile fading.

He ruffled her hair playfully. "The professor wanted me to go deal with the new kid."

"Abby?" she asked dryly.

He cocked his head, eyes inviting her to elaborate.

"She's a total jerk, walking around the school like she owns the place. I tried talking to her and told her she could sit with me and Bobby at lunch-" _Bobby, Logan reminded himself. That's what the ice kid's name is. _"-but she just laughed at me and told me she didn't need anyone to sit with. It was totally weird, and totally rude."

Logan smiled at the girl. She was probably the closest thing he'd ever have to a daughter or a little sister, and he loved her as such. "Yeah, I've had some rough encounters with her myself," he told her, remembering how the blonde had cut his arm while walking past.

"Plus there are all these freaky rumors going around about her."

Logan raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yeah, like her claws are fake-"

"Not true."

Rogue shrugged. "I've also heard she'll keep cutting herself, even after it heals, just to feel the pain. It sounds weird, but I wouldn't put it past her," she said coldly, glancing over her shoulder as though she expected to see her there.

"Marie! You coming?"

Logan turned around to see Bobby standing behind him, his eyes locked on Rogue. He turned back to look at the girl.

"I gotta go," she said with a grin. "Promise me you'll come see me as soon as you get back next time you disappear?"

He smiled. "Promise."

She grinned at him one last time before bouncing after Bobby, no doubt trying to beat the late bell.

"I've gotta talk to this girl," Logan muttered under his breath before turning on his heal and making his way to the professor's office, to figure out where he could find the elusive Abby.

--

Alright, that's the next chapter.

Again, figuring this out as I go along. We'll see where it takes us. :)

Thank you guys so much for reviewing. It makes a world of difference for me!

I'll get the next chapter up asap. I'm working this week (yes, I'm working on April vacation, don't remind me!) so hopefully I won't be too tired.


	3. Only You

Logan knocked on the door tentatively. "Professor?"

"Come in, Logan." The door swung open, seemingly of its own accord, and Logan grinned at the man sitting before him. He'd come to respect this man over the last few months in a way he'd never really respected anyone of his status before. Usually he paid little attention to authority, but he would lay his life on the line for this guy. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" The professor asked smoothly, returning Logan's smile.

"I need to know where Abby's room is. I wanna talk to her."

Charles Xavier's eyes gleamed with recognition. "Ah. What about?"

"Well..." Logan shifted his weight, uncomfortable under the professor's powerful gaze. "I just figured between the two of us, maybe we can figure some stuff out."

Xavier nodded slowly, but his eyes narrowed. "Be careful with her. She's a troubled one." Logan nodded. He was well aware. "Her room is..." The professor paused for a moment, thinking. "...across the hall and six doors down from Rogue's. I trust you know where that is."

Logan smiled. "Yeah, I do. Thanks, professor." And with that, turned to leave.

"Oh, and Logan?"

He paused. "Yes?"

"If you know what's good for you, you'll hold off on buying that second pack of beer. It's bad enough I allowed the first. Understood?" A smile was evident in his tone.

The Wolverine sighed and rolled his eyes with a small grin. "You're the boss." He wasn't sure, but as he walked down the corridor, he thought he could hear Xavier laughing.

Class was still going on, but the hallways were mostly empty, save for the occasional kid going to the bathroom or getting a drink. Logan easily knew his way around the dorms. He obviously knew where Jean and the other X-men slept, but he also knew where Rogue's room was, along with Bobby and a few others. It's just one of those things you don't need to remember, but somehow manage to anyway.

As he turned down the hallway where Rogue's dorm was, he was about to start counting the doors to find the sixth one down when a sad, sweet melody met his ears.

_"Only you, can make this world seem right...Only you, can make the darkness bright...Only you, and you alone, can thrill me like you do, and fill my heart with love-"_

Intrigued, he moved forward, his breath caught in his throat. He paused in front of the room where the song was coming from, and, cautiously, he glanced inside.

It was Abby. She was sitting in front of the mirror, brushing through her tangled blond hair, singing to herself. Letting a soft smile play across his face, Logan leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, listening.

Abruptly, she stopped. "Who's there?"

"Oh, you know, that guy with the claws who saved your ass in the hallway yesterday without so much as a thank you."

She turned to face him, eyes hard. "I could have handled it myself," she reminded him sharply. Her gaze softened slightly for a moment. "But I am sorry, though. This whole thing has me a bit...edgy I guess."

Logan laughed quietly. "Edgy? That's an understatement." He walked in and sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling a cigar out of his coat pocket. "Do you mind?"

Frowning thoughtfully, she shook her head.

He smirked and lit it, tucking it into the corner of his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" she asked accusingly.

"You have a beautiful voice," he dodged.

She blushed then, looking away from him, fussing with her hair brush. "...thanks. That's one thing I remember about myself. Singing was my thing before I...figured out what I was."

Logan nodded his approval. "So, is that all you remember?"

"Sort of. That, and bits of the operation. Not even bits, really...I just remember pain and a lot of blood. And..." She frowned again. Logan watched her expectantly. "I can't shake off the feeling that someone needs me. Like I promised someone I'd give them a ride somewhere or something, and just forgot all about it until now. I can't put my finger one who or what it is though..." she trailed off, gazing out the open window.

Logan nodded again, taking the cigar from his lips for a moment to exhale. He was a little shocked that she was being so agreeable. After a day or two of fighting the flow like that, though, he probably would have backed down, too. It was just too easy to feel comfortable here.

They sat in silence for a moment before Logan spoke again. "So how's life at mutant school treating you?" For whatever reason, he never had a problem getting people to open up to him. It was a talent he tried not to abuse.

She shrugged. "Everyone sort of thinks I'm a freak."

"Oh?" Logan asked, feigning surprise. He had already heard about this from Rogue.

"Yeah...I don't know. I have a hard time with people, I guess. I want to get to know them, you know, to make friends and stuff...but everyone just gets on my nerves. Plus, half the kids tease me, like you saw." She shrugged.

"_I _don't get on your nerves, do I?" he asked casually.

"...No," she answered simply after a moment.

He offered her one of his crooked grins, and she gave him a weak smile in return. Suddenly, he tucked his cigar back into his mouth and stood, walking over to her. She gazed up at him, nervous.

"Lemme see your claws," he instructed.

"Wh-what?"

"Your claws. Lemme see them."

Visibly confused, she unsheathed her claws on one hand. "Here."

He took her hand gently in his, turning it over in his palm to look at the blades extending from her skin. "They're smaller than mine, but other than that they're the same. It must be because your arm's smaller."

Dazed, she withdrew them. Logan kept her hand in his.

"Listen, kid. You and I may have more in common than we think, and we're in this shit together. I don't know how or when we'll figure it out, but we will. And if you need anything- I mean it, anything- come get me. I'm around. Usually," He added with a small grin.

She nodded, her lips parted slightly, her sapphire eyes thoughtful. "What'd you say your name was?" She asked, gently taking back her hand.

"Logan."

"Oh."

With one last smirk, he turned to walk toward the door.

"...Logan?"

"Hmm?" he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Grinning slightly, he winked at her before stepping into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

--

There you go, chapter 3. :D

Please please please review? I don't really feel like writing when I get the impression that I'm the only one reading it. '

Chapter four may take a few days cause I'm working 9 hours tomorrow (yeah, I know...blech) but I'll get it up. Adios!


	4. Must Be Losing It

"Only you..." the blond haired girl breathed softly as she yawned and stretched out across her twin bed. "...can thrill me...like...you do...wait, that's not how it goes..." Moaning sleepily, she sat up, running a hand through her frizzy hair. It had been an insane couple of days for her.

Abby had woken up on the steps in front of the mansion two days ago, soaking wet and exhausted. She opened her eyes to see a crowd of odd looking people kneeling around her. She was shivering so badly that she couldn't object when one of the men lifted her; she tried too, naturally, but all that left her lips was slurred nonsense. He'd glanced at her emotionlessly and kept walking. _Glasses, _she remembered now. _He was wearing a pair of obnoxious red sunglasses. _She must have blacked out then, because all she could recall after that was waking up in the bright light of the doctor's office.

It was the end of the day now, and she'd had all of her classes. That funny looking girl with the gray highlights in her hair had glared at her all during class, and then again during lunch. She told herself not to let it bother her, but it still irked her somehow. She knew it was her fault, that she started it, that the girl had a right to be angry with her...and yet the more she thought about it, the lonelier she felt. Why did she always have to push everyone away?

_Well, not everyone, _she thought dryly. She'd been trying to get her mind off of it, but her thoughts kept returning to the talk she'd had with Logan yesterday...or, more accurately, the dream she'd had that night after talking with him. Dream wasn't the right word though. It was all too familiar...a part of her past that her conscious mind couldn't quite hang on to.

She remembered it perfectly, especially after thinking over again and again since that morning.

_She was running down a city sidewalk, bare feet moving almost silently across the pavement. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her heart was nearly beating out of her chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that she was covered in blood, and that the cheap cotton shirt and shorts she was wearing were ruined with the red stains. It was her blood, naturally, but she had no injuries. Her body had healed itself, but the evidence of the surgery was everywhere._

_She was calling out for someone...searching desperately for..._

"_Who_?" she whispered angrily, standing up and walking over to the window, watching a few of the younger kids bounce across the basketball court below. The dream had begun to fade out before she could really place a finger on who it was she was looking for. Thinking about it made her anxious. This wasn't some recreational game of hide-and-seek, she knew that. It was important. This was a person she needed to find, needed to help...needed to remember.

But the thing that really hurt her head was the connection between the dream and her talk with Logan. She knew there was probably no link between the two, but still...she hadn't dreamt about anything (let alone her _past_) since before she discovered her mutation. And then she just _happens_ to have a significant dream after talking to the man who'd been through exactly what she had? It just didn't sound like a coincidence to her.

Abby had never been the type to think things through. If she wanted to do something, she did it. She didn't sit around thinking about the consequences before acting. But thinking was all she'd been able to do that afternoon. She was reckless, and needed to move, but couldn't really come up with a place to go to or a reason to go there.

She'd considered going to the rec room, but what would she do? Hang out with friends? She had none. Something about watching TV or playing games by herself made her feel a little like gagging.

She had considered going outside, but it was a little hot for her- just over fifty degrees. Her body temperature ran a little hot, she'd decided, because somehow she was only comfortable in the dead of winter.

She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to go talk to Logan again to see if he would jog her memory again. She knew it was selfish, and that it could easily be considered using him, but she couldn't relax not knowing. On the other hand, though, she had no clue where he was and didn't feel like tearing the mansion apart for him.

Sighing, she looked away from the window. This was getting her nowhere, and, quite frankly, was driving her crazy. Just as she was about to go sit on her bed again, her stomach growled, and she was suddenly all too aware that she hadn't really eaten since she'd appeared at the mansion.

_I could go get something from the kitchen, but then what would I do? Just go back to my room and eat it?_ She bit her lip thoughtfully for a moment before rolling her eyes at herself. _Whatever. It's better than doing nothing._

As she stepped into the hallway, she braced herself for noise and a crowd, but was shocked to see the hall empty. Everyone must have been outside enjoying the weather. Shrugging, she turned in the direction of the kitchen, looking down at her feet as she walked.

She had only been to the kitchen once, when one of the other kids had tried to show her around, but her sense of direction was excellent and she knew exactly where it was. She stepped through the doorway tentatively; she wanted to make sure the room was empty before getting comfortable. When she was sure she was alone, she made her way over to the fridge and pulled it open, surveying its contents with critical eyes. There was a pretty lousy selection. She saw a bottle of water, though, and grabbed it, deciding it was better than nothing. Twisting off the cap, she glanced around the kitchen one last time. She considered sitting down at the wooden table, but decided against it. She'd be more comfortable in her room anyway. She must have still been looking behind her when she went to walk out the door, because she walked head on into something. Shaking it off, she looked ahead of her to see what she'd run into. It wasn't what she'd run into, though...it was who.

And it was Logan.

"Sorry, kid," he grunted automatically, and then his eyes blazed with recognition. "Oh, hey."

"Hi," she offered pathetically.

"You gonna move on your own, or am I gonna have to do it for you? Cause I need a beer."

She smiled weakly and stepped aside for him. To her, he seemed like the only guy in this place that acted like he may have been human once. A bit of normalcy was nice now and then, even in a world when it didn't really exist anymore. She watched him silently as he reached into one of the higher cabinets and pulled out silver can. He swore quietly under his breath.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"My last one," he stated simply before plopping down at a chair. He glanced at her as he took a long swig of beer. "Weren't you just leaving?" he asked after he swallowed.

She shrugged and silently sat down beside him.

He accepted this wordlessly and took another swallow of beer. "Not into caffeine?" he asked casually.

"Huh?" she asked, dazed. He gestured to her water. "Oh. Um. I guess not."

He shrugged, and turned his gaze to the window, seemingly unaware of Abby's eyes on him. She chewed lightly on her lip, torn, unable to decide whether or not to tell him her theory.

Suddenly, he sighed and looked at her. "What?" he demanded. She took kept her bottom lip securely between her teeth and looked down.

She hesitated visibly for a moment, but under Logan's flat stare it was difficult to deny him an elaboration. "I had a dream last night."

"So?"

"Well, it was about some stuff I couldn't remember before."

His eyes flashed briefly with interest. He said nothing, so she sighed and dove into an explanation of what had occurred in the dream, and why she thought she had it.

"So you really think talking to me dug up all that?" he asked as he got up to dispose of his empty bottle. Abby nodded. "Why?" he demanded.

"I don't know. Maybe because you actually get what I'm going through." He nodded slightly, and leaned against the table next to her.

"So you don't know who you were calling out to?"

"Nope."

"No name? Nothing?

"Nope."

"You know, you could have wheels read your mind for you."

She paused then, raising her sapphire gaze to his. "I know. He offered," she said coldly. "I don't care how good he is. As far as I'm concerned, my brain is private property." Logan smirked. She narrowed her gaze up at him. "What?"

"Nothing," he muttered. "Have a little trust, though. He's not a bad guy."

She sneered slightly and looked away. If there was one thing that pissed her off, it was having things shoved down her throat. She was stubborn that way. Even if something didn't bother her at first, the more someone pushed it on her, the more she hated it. It was a subconscious thing that she couldn't help much.

"So what are you going to do then?" he asked, leaning towards her slightly. "Obviously you aren't coming up with much on your own, and you won't let anyone help you. Do you want to figure stuff out or not?"

"Shut up," she said hotly, still a little ticked that her only ally seemed to be siding with the professor. "I don't need him in my head."

"Oh really?" His tone was sarcastic. "You think everything you want is going to come to you in your sleep? It's not."

She glared at him, hatred evident in her eyes. The hostility of the look took Logan off guard, wiping the sarcasm from his expression, leaving his face and eyes blank. It wasn't so much her anger that caught him off guard; he'd seen her much angrier than she was now, so he knew this was nothing. It was the stunning intensity of her eyes as she turned their full force upon him. He was suddenly very aware—for the first time, really _aware_—of how pretty she was. He'd noticed that she wasn't bad looking, but something about the lighting or the atmosphere made his heart skip a beat in his chest.

Abby's gaze softened lightly, suspicious that his demeanor had changed so quickly. "What?" she asked darkly.

Logan said nothing. He looked steadily into her eyes, needing every bit of self control to keep his gaze from tracing over her figure. _She's eighteen, _he reminded himself mentally. Still, it did little to steady his breathing. _...that does mean she's legally of age. _

"Seriously, what?" she asked, glancing away for a moment as she shifted uncomfortably under his stare.

He shook his head slightly and looked away, as if to shake off the thoughts that had overtaken his mind. "Nothing."

She glared at him skeptically for a moment before looking down at her hands. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke, her tone hesitant. "I was thinking maybe if I talked to you again, I'd another dream. Or the same dream, or something."

He grunted a response, but didn't look back at her. He focused on clearing his mind. He was just dealing with his rejection from Jean a few days earlier, he told himself silently. That was all. He wouldn't let himself get desperate. And yet there was something about her that caught his interest, he just couldn't put his finger on what it was...

Seeing that he had nothing more to add, Abby twisted the cap back onto her water (she hadn't taken one sip) and stood, clearing her throat lightly. "I'm...gonna...go back to my room."

Logan could feel her eyes on him, daring him to speak, but he remained silent, offering her a shrug.

"Hey," she said gently, picking up his hand, which had been hanging loosely at his side. She figured she'd offended him by getting snippy. He looked up at her, his eyes smoldering. "I'll see you around, okay?" Her tone sounded apologetic. She had a quick temper, but it could fade just as quickly as it surfaced. Seeing him relax a little, she squeezed his hand lightly before dropping it, offering him a small smile before walking away.

Logan remained where he stood, following her with his gaze, watching how her little jean shorts clung to her. Shaking his head at himself, he took another swallow of beer. _I must be losing it._

--

Well, there you go. Chapter four! :)

Sorry it took so long. Work has been crazy and I really had to think this chapter over.

Thanks for the reviews, you guys keep me writing!

Love, Chorro


	5. Waking Dreams

Abby had no dreams after talking to Logan that afternoon, for one reason and one reason only; she got no sleep. She'd spread out across her bed, clothed, with the window open and the lights off after tiring of thinking of things to keep her occupied, and never quite fell asleep. Her mind buzzed with thoughts and her heart ached for answers. Even after hours of lying motionless in a thought-induced stupor, sleep still escaped her.

She sighed and turned onto her side, away facing away from the red light emitting from her alarm clock. It was dark out. She didn't need a few numbers separated by a colon to tell her it was too soon to get up.

Her eyes burned slightly as she stared into the dark, unblinking. She'd gone over the dream a thousand times, pictured the scenario in her mind's eye again and again, but still came out with nothing…nothing but anxiety, anyway. The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. All she could seem to pull out of her memory was sheer panic. This wasn't a job interview she'd been late for. This was someone important, someone depending on her memory…

A boiling anger surfaced within her chest. She'd been lying still for too long. The frustration was almost unbearable. She knew it was all there, all in her head. Normal people could remember almost anything. Preschool, babyhood, whatever. And she couldn't remember anything past one week ago! What was the matter with her?

She clenched her fists.

Was she really so broken? So…mutilated on the inside her brain couldn't even work anymore? What had they done, replaced her brain with the same metal that took the place of her bones? How dare they! She clamped her eyes shut, subconsciously flexing her slender fingers.

Without so much as a breath, she leapt out of bed, unsheathing her claws and digging them into the wall in one smooth motion, resentment for herself and her unknown enemies pulsing through her veins. She stood there for a moment, head down, struggling to keep her breathing steady.

And suddenly, she was wide awake.

It was perfect. Why hadn't she thought of it before?

Stepping away from the wall, she carefully removed her claws, shaking off the flakes of plaster before sheathing them. Smirking slightly, she strode out the door.

On her first day of classes, she'd been given a tour which had included the locations of all the teachers' rooms…and Wolverine's. She racked her brain for the information as she walked- nearly ran- down the hall. It took only seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the halls compared to her alarm-clock-illuminated bedroom. Enhanced senses were handy every now and again.

Her furious outburst had cleared her mind, giving an edge to the blurry mass of thoughts swarming around her head.

When she halted in front of the door, she didn't bother knocking, but rather yanked the door open. In the back of her mind she wondered why it had been unlocked, but she didn't give it a second thought.

"Logan," her tone was steady. She kept one hand on the doorknob, but stood square in the doorway.

The Wolverine was an entirely different being when he was unconscious. Lying on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, he looked more like a child than a man with a skeleton made of unbreakable metal…save for his muscles, of course. He was shirtless, and his sheets were pooled around his waist, exposing his toned back and the top of his cloth shorts. She was just beginning to trace over the definition on his arms with her gaze when she heard him grunt.

She wasn't sure if it had been an acknowledgement to her, or some unconscious response to a dream. Regardless, she had business to carry out with him, and she was growing impatient. She cleared her throat audibly.

The sleeping mutant inhaled deeply, and after a moment, he stirred, lifting his head just enough to speak. "What?" His tone was rough and quiet (no doubt a result of just having been woken up) but still demanding.

She could still feel the frustration-fueled determination bubbling within her, but she felt another emotion surface at the sound of his voice. Contentment? No, that wasn't it…

Could it be…relief? That sounded about right. But why would she feel relieved talking to him? She mentally shook it off and re-embraced her new found determination, only to find her frustration had all but been replaced by the reprieve that had suddenly flooded her system.

"You said Professor Xavier would read my mind."

Logan paused for a moment before flipping slowly onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows to glare at her. She put in an effort to keep her eyes off his toned chest. "You…woke…me…up…to tell me _that?_ I don't know or care what time it is, darlin', but it's either too early or too late for you to be up at all. Go back to bed." He was about to roll back onto his stomach, but she spoke up before he could.

"No, no. See, I thought of something. You know how I was looking for someone?"

Logan gave her a flat stare.

"You know, in my dream?" She was eager now.

He looked exasperated, and more than anything, intolerant. "Yeah."

"If the professor read my mind, couldn't he see who it was and find them with his computer thing?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "He's not gonna do anything till he gets a good night's sleep, and neither are you, and neither am I."

Abby stuck out her bottom lip slightly and averted her gaze. She had been so ready to run her brilliant plan by him, she'd given little thought to the time. Maybe she should have paid a little more attention to her alarm clock after all. She was about to give him some kind of excuse when a yawn escaped her defenses. With her short lived fury gone, she was beginning to feel the effects of exhaustion. Ability to heal or no, sleep was sleep.

Logan's harsh demeanor dissipated. Even in the dark, Abby swore she saw his eyes flash. "You're tired." It wasn't a question. It sounded more like an accusation.

She looked him in the eye without expression. "I couldn't sleep."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

She shrugged. She wasn't about to explain all of her thought processes to him that had kept her awake.

"So what made you come barging in here? Just felt like enlightening me?" His tone was sarcastic.

Wounded slightly, Abby looked away and shrugged, stifling another yawn. "I just needed an excuse to move I guess."

"You couldn't have waited a few hours?"

Abby looked at him now, her eyes fierce and narrowed. "You know what? I really thought you'd be more understanding. I shouldn't have told you. 'Night." She turned to leave, and was about one step down the hallway, when she heard Logan get up. She halted and turned to face him.

He stood in the doorway, his mouth a hard line, his eyes blank.

"What?" Abby snapped. Her tone came out sounding worse than she'd intended, but she really didn't care. Obviously Logan had no interest in helping her. Why else would he have been so close-minded?

He looked into her eyes and away for a moment. Something about his countenance was cautious and thoughtful. Abby couldn't put her finger on what it was. Before she could fully register the touch, he gently lifted his hand to cup her face in his palm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. He sounded genuine enough, but the smirk playing at the corners of mouth made her skeptical. "I didn't mean to _offend_ you." He chuckled slightly.

Sneering slightly, Abby shook off his hand. "Shut up," she muttered, and turned to leave again.

"No, no," he said, a smile in his voice. "Really. I'm sorry. We'll work it out with Chuck in the morning." He grabbed the girl's little hand and turned her to face him. He looked her in the eyes for a moment, and his wry grin disappeared. He lifted his hand tentatively to trace the dark circles under her eyes with his thumb. "You need sleep."

Abby put her hand over his and raised an eyebrow. "And you accuse me of stating the obvious."

Logan laughed quietly, but not without warmth. "Go back to bed, kid, before I make you."

Abby grinned, her annoyance gone as soon as it had surfaced. Every moment with him was so hot and cold. Somehow she enjoyed it, though…he was different from everyone else, and yet so much like her. It had her at ease and on her toes all at once. _Difficult to describe_, she thought with a small smile, _but nice to experience._ "Yes, sir," she muttered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

And as she walked quietly down the hallway to retreat back to her room, she could have sworn she saw Logan lingering in the doorway, his eyes locked on her. A slight shiver when down her spine, and she smiled softly to herself, feeling as though she might be able to get some sleep after all, however late.

Here you go, chapter five.

Sorry it's late, I kind of lost my impulsion to write for a while. Heh.

I'll get the next chapter up a little sooner, hopefully.


	6. Fire Away

Logan smiled against the cold metal of the can as another mouthful of beer ran down his throat. He'd held off for what, one day? And technically, he wasn't breaking any rules. The professor had told him not to buy a second _pack_. This was only one can. Plus, the professor- along with Jean and Hank- had been called out to a conference at the nation's capital about some mutant rights something-or-other. Scott might have been with them; Logan couldn't care less. The guy could be wearing cement shoes at the bottom of the ocean for all he knew.

The mutant took another long sip of beer, finding the wind against his face oddly pleasant. Little things like that usually didn't catch his attention, but then again, he rarely sat outside like this, so it was hard not to notice.

He'd woken up later than usual that morning, and after getting his hands on a beer, he felt relaxed enough to hang around. It didn't take him long to find a good place to sit, under a tree at the edge of the courtyard. The weather was fairly dreadful; it was unusually cold, and dark clouds spanned from horizon to horizon. The falling moisture was more of a mist than a rain—enough to make tiny beads of water in his hair, but not enough to soak through his shirt. It was perfect...just bad enough to keep the children inside. Solitude was surprisingly hard to come buy when you lived in a school full of mutated children. Needless to say, he'd really lucked out with the weather; all the kids were usually outside on Saturdays.

He'd had every intention of sorting a few things out with himself this morning, but he could see now that it wasn't going to happen. It was much too easy to just lean against the damp bark of the tree, shut his eyes, and forget about everything for a while. _How's that for irony,_ he thought wryly and he stretched and yawned. _I spend half my time trying to remember the things I've forgotten, and the other half trying to forget the things that I know. Hmph._

He could feel himself beginning to slip into unconsciousness, but he didn't object. His sleep the night before had been...interrupted. He frowned to himself and shifted his weight a little, suddenly uncomfortable. The fact that he might be developing feelings for someone so young was enough to make anyone uncomfortable. He tried to tell himself again and again that he was just coping with the constant rejection from Jean and that it was all in head, but there was something about that girl...

Feeling more restless than tired all of a sudden, he gave up on sleep for the moment to finish off his beer. There was only a drop left, anyway. He let the empty can slip lazily out of his palm, watching it roll a few inches away before coming to a stop upon hitting the moist grass. He stared blankly at it for a moment before forcefully shutting his eyes again. All he needed was a little time to relax, he decided. Just a little time to recover from the past week, a little bit of time to himself, no pressure, no stress, no...no...footsteps?

He opened one eye apprehensively, holding his breath while he listened. Yes, footsteps. Behind him...

"There you are!"

Before the voice even registered in Logan's brain, he jumped to his feet and pivoted to face the speaker, unsheathing his claws with their familiar metallic _shink_.

When he saw his opponent, he cringed.

It was a blond girl, about eighteen, with startlingly deep blue eyes.

It was Abby.

At first he felt some relief—it was only Abby, not one of the demons from his past come to haunt him—but that relief was quickly replaced with confusion when he took a closer look at her.

Her upper lip curled into a sneer, exposing a few of her perfectly white teeth. Her petite hands were clenched into fists at her sides. Logan had almost forgotten just how wild she looked upon arriving at the mansion; after she'd exposed some of her vulnerabilities to him, he figured she was past that feral anger. He knew now that he was wrong—this could easily have been the same girl screaming bloody murder in the medical office. Something in her eyes made him automatically sheath his claws and take a step back. After a moment, though, he smirked slightly. He knew how dangerous she could be, but something about how tiny and angry she looked reminded him of the way a toddler looked when she didn't get her way. It was endearing, somehow.

"He's gone!" she snarled. It was clear she was putting an effort in to keep her voice down. "I waited all night to talk to him and what happens? _He disappears!_" Despite her best efforts, her volume was steadily rising.

Logan kept his gaze steady, and watched her with tentative eyes. He knew enough about the way the two of them functioned not to say anything yet; it would only be fueling the fire. It felt a little odd for him to be on the receiving end of something like this; guilt crept quietly into his mind. He couldn't even count how many times he'd hurt people, blowing up like that. Lucky for Abby, he was a little more durable than most. Re-focusing his thoughts, he mentally shook off the guilt, and began waiting her out.

They stared each other down for a minute or two. Logan could see the harsh light in her eyes soften as the seconds passed. Suddenly, she sighed and looked down, her breaths long and uneven as she worked to calm herself. Now that her face was relaxed, Logan could see that she was every bit as tired as she had been when she'd come to talk to him in the middle of the night, if not more so. She looked up at him again, her expression impossible to read.

"Give the guy a few days. You know he'll be back," Logan said quietly, offering her a small, crooked smile.

Her responding smile was halfhearted, and didn't quite touch her eyes. "I know. It's just driving me crazy." The smile faded. "There's something I've got to do, and I can't help but feel like I've already waited too long. Like I'm too late." Her gaze flicked from Logan to the tree he'd been leaning on, and she bit her lip sheepishly. "I ruined your quiet."

Logan chucked warmly. The sound was quiet and low, and Abby could feel herself relaxing. "I've got no problem picking up where I left off. You're welcome to join me, if you're done yelling, that is."

A slight blush colored her cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm done." She watched silently as he leaned against the tree and slid to the ground, following suit after a second. She sat close (the tree wasn't that large) but not close enough to be touching. She pulled her legs up against her chest and crossed her arms, resting them on her knees and her chin on her arms. He wondered idly if she was cold—all she had on were tiny cloth shorts and a little tank top. His shirt was sleeveless as well, but he, at least, had jeans on.

"Does he always leave like this?" Abby asked after a moment. Logan thought he may have heard a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Logan glanced sideways at her, raising an eyebrow. "You think he'd bring all those political guys _here_ to talk?"

She sighed. "I guess not." She paused thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Has he ever...read your mind before?" She peaked at him through the veil of golden hair hanging in front of shoulder.

Logan nodded, but said nothing. He really didn't want to go into it with her, not now. If he were to be honest with himself, he'd much rather have the professor talk it over with her...the weapon X program, all that...when she was a little more stable and a little less tired. Logan wasn't very tactful and he knew it. He'd probably end up making matters worse.

Seeing that that was the only answer she was going to get, she looked away. Logan smirked slightly when she yawned. "On a scale of one to ten, how offended would you be if I fell asleep?" As she spoke, she tucked her face into the crook of her elbow, muffling her voice.

He shrugged, though he knew she couldn't see. "I'd probably wonder when I got so boring; you were wide awake all night, then as soon as you start talking to me, you fall asleep no problem."

She turned her head just enough to roll an eye at him. He breathed a laugh in response. Suddenly she lifted her head to look up at him, her eyes hard. He coked his head slightly, a small smile still playing at the corners of his lips. "What?"

She studied his face for a moment, her face thoughtful and focused. After a few seconds, she shrugged and looked away.

All of a sudden, Logan remembered something Rogue had told him a few days ago. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

She looked up at him again, confused, but nodded.

He smiled slightly, and continued. "I don't take much stock in rumors, but..." He shrugged. "I heard one that made me curious."

He saw her lip twitch slightly, but her face stayed even.

"It was something about you cutting yourself...?"

She sighed, exasperated. "Who'd you hear that from?"

He flashed her a small grin. "One of my connections."

She rolled her eyes again and looked away. "I hate _people_. They blow everything out of proportion." Logan watched her silently, curiosity glowing in his eyes. Deciding after a moment that he wouldn't judge her either way, she began to explain. "It clears my head." As she spoke, she lifted one hand and unsheathed the claws, admiring them in the dim light coming from the cloudy sky. "The pain, I mean. I don't slit my wrists or anything. This is more like a habit. Kind of like nail biting or something." She withdrew her claws, glancing at him to see a reaction.

He took her hand in his before she could cross her arms again, studying it quietly. He heard her hold her breath nervously, and considered mentioning it, but decided against it for the moment. Turning her hand over in his, he searched for scars, or any evidence that she was lying. There was nothing but smooth skin. He didn't really expect to see anything, anyway. After a moment, he sighed and looked at her. "Is there a reason you're not breathing?"

She exhaled then, laughing uneasily.

He grinned wryly at her. "This makes you nervous?"

Attempting to regain her composure, she shook her head. "No." Her voice was unconvincing, and Logan's grin became more defined.

"So I _don't _put you to sleep, then."

"No," she confirmed, speaking more steadily than before.

Logan chuckled.

They sat in silence for a while after that. Logan kept her hand in his, idly tracing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. It seemed like a natural, soothing gesture. Feeling perfectly at ease, Abby sighed contentedly and shut her eyes, tipping her head back to rest it against the tree.

"I have one more question, if you don't mind."

Yawning, Abby turned her head sleepily to look at him. "Fire away."

"What did they call you?"

"Hmm?" she asked, looking at him with more interest now. "What did who call me?"

"The guys who put that tag around your neck."

Blinking thoughtfully, Abby pulled her dog tag out from underneath her shirt and examined it for a moment. An odd expression came over her face. "Lynx. Why?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Curious."

Abby nodded slowly, looking back towards the mansion. Much to her embarrassment, her stomach growled. She flushed red and dropped her gaze to her lap.

Logan laughed. "Hungry?"

Knowing that it wouldn't do her any good to lie to him, she shrugged. "Kinda."

Still smiling, Logan got easily to his feet, holding her hand expectantly, waiting to help her up.

She frowned stubbornly. "I don't need your help."

He raised an eyebrow questioningly, but obediently dropped her hand. Biting her lip, she stood, swaying on her feet. Her knees buckled, but Logan's arm was instantly around her waist, steadying her.

"Don't need my help, huh?"

"Shut up," she muttered.

As if on cue, a tiny voice rang out through the courtyard. "Hey, you guys!" The two turned around to see one of the smaller children at the mansion peeking out the back door, his wide, childlike eyes fixated on them. "Storm told me to tell you that lunch is ready!" His message delivered, he disappeared, no doubt running off to get lunch.

Logan glanced down at Abby. "Shall we then?"

She sighed. "I suppose. I really can walk on my own, though. I'm not that tired." She almost would have sounded convincing, had a yawn not interrupted her defense.

Chuckling, Logan started toward the mansion, Abby trudging along comically beside him. Maybe he'd get something done today after all.

--

There you go. Told you I'd update. :3

No guarantees for well I'll get around to the next chapter though...gotta take finals and do last minute projects and all that loveliness.

I'm gonna get around to changing the title of the story eventually...thanks to Renavatio for the heads up. Suggestions would be much appreciated, because quite frankly I'm drawing a blank.

Hope you're enjoying your weekend!

Love, Chorro


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